Annuals and tropicals of all stripes are among the smorgasbord of plants offered at Gethsemane Garden Center in Andersonville, ILL., a Chicago suburb known for its Swedish heritage and chic mom-and-pop stores.

Chicago ‘plantalooza’

Annuals and tropicals of all stripes are among the smorgasbord of plants offered at Gethsemane Garden Center in Andersonville, ILL., a Chicago suburb known for its Swedish heritage and chic mom-and-pop stores.

—from “City in a Garden,” a song by Andrew Hurley, Joseph Trohman, Patrick Stump and Peter Wentz

If the younger set can flood Chicago streets annually for their lollapalooza, it should be okay that older, experienced plantspeople can make some noise about the wonderful plants they discovered this summer in in the Windy City and on tours in Wisconsin. Shall we call it our “plantapalooza”?

Uncommon plants, absolute stunners, natives and exotics, sunflowers, corn and summer squash flourishing in community gardens, Japonica corn, eggplant and mustard growing in a Japanese vegetable garden, Chinese produce proffered by Chinese ladies in Chinatown, breathtaking borders and container plantings, water plants, new, exciting ornamental grasses, a century plant with 38-foot-high central stalk, so tall a glass pane had to be removed to let it grow through the greenhouse roof, tiny-leafed silver sparkle pilea, sometimes called grey baby tears.

Whew!

Since the 1830s, Chicago’s leaders have called their city “The City in a Garden,” literal translation of Latin urbs in horto found on the city seal. Yet, the city’s flat marshy conditions presented great challenges to early designers grounded in romantic visions of the English landscape-gardening school.

After enduring the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, the city re-emerged with a vengeance. “The people of this once beautiful city resolved that CHICAGO SHALL RISE AGAIN,” blurted a Tribune editorial. The City Beautiful Movement, that fostered grand, monumental approaches in Washington, D.C., and other cities, rooted well in Chicago. The World’s Columbian Exposition in 1893 put Chicago on the map as an emerging American city.

Six days afoot and on subways and buses in the Windy City gave me new perspective where that city has been and what it’s become. I clicked into the hypnotizing cadence of sounds emanating from vending machines for Chicago Transit Authority, of the repetitive clang and sway of subway cars, the commanding male voice announcing the latest stop: “This IS Clinton.” I still hear it in my head, feel the rhythm and continual sway, indeed, the poetry of the city. Returning to Bloomington, I was struck by the quietude of arriving at our transit center at 6:30 in the morning in early August. A fresh, alluring scent told me I was home.

Yet we Bloomingtonians know the summer respite is not for long. Arriving U-Hauls, vans, cars and trucks signal a new semester when our city’s pace accelerates to near-Chicago levels. I’ve gotten used to the pulsating thud of Chicago’s downtown Lollapalooza in late July, passing through, often on Amtrak, invariably toward Michigan Avenue and the wondrous Lurie Garden.

In Bloomington or Chicago, I enjoy brushing past energetic fresh faces. But I still have trouble when Indiana University announcers ramp up proceedings from IU Stadium, sometimes as early as 8 a.m., apparently oblivious of surrounding neighbors. We need a break from Chicago-style amps in our smaller city.

Nevertheless, here are some of the great plants I encountered during tours of Chicago and neighboring Wisconsin.

• American agave, or century plant, at Garfield Park Conservatory, native to our Southwest and Mexico, found in many conservatories, including IU’s Jordan Hall Greenhouse where panes also had to be removed atop the greenhouse this spring to let it grow through the roof.

• Pink powder-puff trees, reminiscent of mimosa, native to South America, four of which anchor corners of the Horticulture Room of Garfield Conservatory, where I finished my tuna wrap brought from home for lunch, not as tasty as Bloomingfoods’, but savory nonetheless; I hope this tree doesn’t self-seed like mimosas at home.

• Blackhawk big bluestem grass, the charmer during our Wisconsin Wonders tour, even if Intrinsic Perennial Gardens, a wholesale nursery where it was being grown in Hebron, Ill., is just across the border from Wisconsin; a sumptuous gray-green grass in spring, becoming reddish-bronze by fall; grows 4-5 feet, but with its central plume can reach 8 feet; there were too many jokes about the Chicago Blackhawks!

• One of the most spectacular container plantings I’ve seen (middle photo C6), which makes me think red is best for pots; they can be moved through the garden at will; this one at Olbrich Botanical Gardens in Madison, Wis., featured Tidal Wave petunia, red-berried St. John’s wort, silver sage and umber sedge.